


Whose idea was this?

by Void (EroEmo)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Attempt at Humor, Bitter Exes, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Getting Back Together, M/M, Shameless Trope Fill, Sharing a Bed, Swearing, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 07:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16114163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EroEmo/pseuds/Void
Summary: Gavin asks himself this question as he looks down at his phone, his thumb hovering over the number of his ex. It can't end well. It probably won't. But there reallyreallyisn't much of a choice left for him. Besides, it's only one weekend. How bad can it be?AU where Gavin and Niles broke up and now have to pretend they're still together for the wedding of Reed's sister. This is going to end up just the way you think.





	Whose idea was this?

It’s way below his dignity, to ask for it. To just― to approach Niles like that and to admit this kind-of-but-not-really mistake. Humiliation burns unpleasantly beneath his neck and cheeks, coloring them red. At least it feels like it since he doesn’t really have time to check in the mirror. Not that there are any mirrors nearby to begin with.

“So?” Gavin can swear that Niles really wishes he didn’t agree on the meeting. Not that Gav can blame him. He himself isn’t happy with the circumstances. “Are you going to tell me what was so  _ urgent  _ that you had to see me or has it been just an excuse to look at me in person?”

“What?” He scoffs, bitterness creeping into his words. “Don’t flatter yourself like that, dipshit. I’ve called because…” Fuck, why it’s so hard to say that aloud? “Because this is something involving me, you and my mother.”

Niles raises a brow at him, reaching for his coffee. Flat white on double espresso, no sugar. He still remembers guy’s favorite outside working hours. “Did something happen to her?”

“No,” Gavin crosses his arms, eyes focusing on the nearby plant. Anything is better than looking at his ex. “The thing is… Fuck!”

“Take your time,” his voice nothing but that cool, slightly mocking tone. Gavin doesn’t need to look up to notice that unnerving, stirring smile, too. He can hear it in Niles’ voice and that’s more than enough.

A very thin string inside of him tenses.

“Okay, smartass, long story short my lil sister Cat is getting married which means I’m invited, and since my mom  _ adores  _ you, she insists on you coming, too.”

Gav watches him taking a long, agonizingly slow sip of his coffee. He wants to punch Niles in that pretty face of his.

“Is she aware we are no longer together, though?”

And here comes the tricky part, you see. Technically, Gavin  _ has  _ mentioned something like that last time he saw her but, as she started her rant over invited guests and wedding overall, he somehow failed to make that a main point of his statement. Instead, in a strange turns of events, he ended up reassuring her that yes, he  _ will  _ show up with Niles and that yes,  _ he  _ will buy a new suit (because apparently the one he already owns is ‘shabby’).

Nothing is ever simple with his mother.

“I feel like she’s missed that part,” he admits, making a sour expression. He really  _ really  _ doesn’t like the direction this conversation is heading. Where  _ he  _ has to point it to.

“So you ask me out somewhere public to make sure I won’t just hang up on you, as you insinuate we go together to your sister’s wedding?” Niles sums up, face ever so emotionless. “Presumably, still pretending to be a couple?”

He sighs. “You could put it like that, yeah.”

Niles snorts, smirking. “You really must be desperate, Gav.”

Using the old term of endearment as an insult? Kinda ouch.

“Maybe I am. Doesn’t change the fact everyone in my goddamn family, for some un-fucking-known reason, likes you and would be disappointed not to see you there.” The other man almost looks as if he’s considering. Almost. “Oh, c’mon! I’ll buy you a fancy wine as an apology for the inconvenience, okay?”

“How fancy?” Niles leans in closer, resting his head atop of his laced hands.

“Oh, I don’t know, your favorite? Maybe?” He’s so damn done with this shit, and it’s only a negotiation part. Fuck. “If you act good. Plus hey, there is going to be plenty of free alcohol and food.” A good excuse to go as far from each other as possible, but Gavin knows Niles knows implications of this one. “I can even say ‘pretty please’ if that’s something you want to hear.”

“With pleasure,” he purrs. It takes every ounce of Gavin’s self-control not to flip the table or at least splash his remaining coffee in the guy’s face.

Instead, he smiles with as much venom as he can muster, and speaks: “Pretty please, Mister Dickhead, pretend to be my boyfriend to my sister’s wedding.”

 

*   *   *

“Ah, hello Niles! So good to see you!”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Reed,” she hugs Niles before he can do anything about it, to Gavin’s mortification and partial amusement.

“Hi mom,” he doesn’t expect to be hugged nor he waits for it. He just rushes inside with their luggage, trying to navigate through narrow corridor.

Niles soon joins him, sport bag on his shoulder and the garment bag with their suits in the other hand. Gavin scoffs as he lifts the heavy bag of his own and up the stairs, heading to the guests room.

However, before he can put his hand on a door handle, he hears his mother’s frantic steps behind them.

“Honey, where are you going?” She smiles at him as if he was a silly ten year old again. “You won’t be sleeping there!”

“Huh?”

Niles brings a hand to his mouth, probably to hide that vicious smirk of his. God help him survive this weekend.

“Auntie Clarisse asked if she can stay at our place with her twins, you remember them?” How he could forget? A noisy aunt of his, with a profound love of every burboune ever produced. And her thirteen-or-so girls whose only hobby is confusing people with Shine quotes. “They’re coming in a few hours, if there is no traffic on the road.”

“So wait, where are we gonna sleep?” He doesn’t like where this is going.

“Your old room is still in a good condition, Gavie.”

Gavin can swear he’s heard something stifled from Niles. Probably a snort of sorts. He swallows loudly. He hasn’t been to that wreck of a room in what? Fifteen years, give or take?

His mom probably spots his unvoiced concerns because she instantly chims in with “Don’t worry honey, I’ve cleaned it up a bit. You two should be fine.”

Well, here comes even more humiliation, then.

He navigates them to the cringey den of his teenage years, sincerely hoping his past self at least had a decency to take more than less of those horrible posters off.

“So this is the place young Gavin Reed grew up in?” Niles hums, taking a step inside, glancing all over the place. “Interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, dipshit.”

For the record, he’s thought it would look worse. Way, way worse. Some old posters, mostly of rock and punk bands, are still stuck to the walls, with an enormous one from  _ Blade Runner 2049  _ over the headboard taking the cake. Random stickers put on the wardrobe are still visible and Gavin wonders if it’s bad he can still recall from which shows they are coming from, even after all these years.

Niles hangs the garment bag over the wardrobe’s door, his own bag tossed to the side. Gavin idly thinks he’s out of place, the tall and slender silhouette not really matching small and cramped bedroom they’re stuck in.

He probably stares too long because Niles gives him a face as soon as he notices. Well, no need to make it even more awkward than it already is, right?

Speaking of which…

“Shit,” he mutters, realizations slowly settling in and making his neck hot. He glances over at Niles and then again at the bed.

The guy’s eyes widen a little, as he comes to understanding of what’s waiting for them. Then, he shrugs nonchalantly. “Kind of expected it.”

“You kind of what?”

Niles looks at him with those icy grey eyes, the implication of the look simple enough to grasp:  _ think, idiot.  _ “We’re supposed to be a couple, wouldn’t it be weird if we slept in separate beds or rooms, for the matter?”

Gavin nods reluctantly, knowing he’s right. He’s almost always right, to the point it’s frustrating.

“You are thirty six, Gavin. Act like it,” he can’t think of the exact moment his hand clenched into a fist nor when he took those few steps separating him from Niles.

Either way here he is, taking a swift to hit the guy right in that beautiful face of his. Or, that’s what he’s planned to do a second ago. Because now he’s struggling with not yelping from pain, his hand wrenched behind his back.

Fuck, he has forgotten that Niles is no punching back. Why on Earth he keeps forgetting such shit?

“There there, Gav, don’t overstrain yourself,” Niles cooes, his hand clutching his own even harder. “We don’t want to cause a scene during an important time like this, do we? Think about your sister and your mom.”

“You little son of a-”

A knock on a door frame gives him a mini heart attack but that’s to be expected. Seeing his mom leaning on it isn’t surprising, too. What does bewilder him, however, is the smooth motion Niles makes.

His arm is still painfully hold against his back but, judging by his mother’s expression, they look as if they’re hugging or doing some other shit they’d probably be doing if they were still  _ actually  _ together.

He gives her a small smile, trying not to grimace. “Mom, you need something?”

“No, honey, I’ve just come by to say the tea is ready, if you’d like something sweet.” She lowers her voice, as if telling a secret. “Mrs. Thompson came by earlier and gave me some of her cherry pie, you know the one.”

His mother is too oblivious sometimes. Either that or she chooses not to see shit. Or he’s mastered hiding his pain because there is no way his arm’s not gonna bruise later on. When he thinks of the last time he got himself in situation like this, Niles’ grip definitely wasn’t that strong. Has he been going to the gym or some other shit?

Gavin uses the remaining strength to push the mental image of sweating, topless Niles on the rims of his mind. Thankfully, just as his mom leaves them be, his arm is given the last warning squeeze and then let free.

“You really need to work on your temperament, Gavin.”

He scoffs, massaging his wrist. If the neutral-slash-warm way Niles says his name does something to his insides, he chooses to ignore it.

 

*   *   *

After encountering creepy twins and surviving their eerie game of ‘which quote will spook Gavin more’, he’s pretty damn sure nothing is going to surprise him before going to bed. Turns out, he’s wrong.

“Is this a pillow barricade,” he doesn’t even know how to name the thing properly, a wall made of pillows and a spare blanket in the middle of the already narrow bed. “I’ve thought you said we should behave like adults about this.”

“No, I’ve said  _ you  _ should act like an adult,” Niles corrects him, no edge to his voice. As if he’s clarifying something to a small child which Gavin certainly is not. “This is a mere solution to our comfort issues.”

“Comfort issues,” Gav echoes, watching as Niles gets in. “You call shrinking the available space by one third a solution?”

Niles doesn’t even bother to answer him, judging look from him the only response Gavin’s likely to receive tonight. He sighs, climbing into that sparse part of the bed left.

He’s not really sure what he was expecting when Niles shrugged off the problem of bed sharing. First, he remembers, he felt anxious. Being physically close to your ex is never a good idea, no matter the circumstances. Then, though Gavin has hard time admitting that, something akin to hope sparked in his guts. He’s truly pathetic, to allow himself being this weak and hopeful, wishing for impossible to happen.

Because he misses Niles. He really does. He knows it, just, he’s not really open about it to anyone, even his own self.

If they parted because of a serious issue, like cheating or something, everything would be safe and sound. But they’ve broken up over an incredibly dumb thing. Gavin can’t even tell what that was anymore, it was  _ that  _ insignificant. One spiteful word too much here, one jarring remark too much there, and here they are now, so painfully close and yet so far away from each other.

He’d like to apologize and make things right but he doesn’t really know where to start. Niles, as emotionless as he appears to be, isn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with. He himself, too, is far from perfect in the matter. Quite the opposite, really. Not to mention those awful self doubts and insecurities that threaten to resurface every now and then. Yeah, he could really use a break from those nasty fucks.

But there is no rest for the wicked. He’s gotta suffer in his personal hell for being too much of a dick to admit he was wrong. Or, maybe rather, admit it just in the right way― Stating out loud that you’re an asshole is one thing, making it count as a proper apology is another. More tricky one, too.

Gavin drifts off in a semi-comfortable position, his back pressed to the pillow wall, silently wishing it was Niles instead.

  
  


His consciousness takes its time to settle in, merciless rays of sun hitting him exactly in the eyes. He feels warm and cozy but that damn light is ruining everything, and so he buries his head more into that softness in front of him.

Something shifts beneath him. That’s strange. Pillows shouldn’t probably be moving. Gavin sighs through his nose and cracks one eye open, his mind groggy. It’s probably way too early for him to be awake yet to begin with.

Even though his vision is still hazy, he makes out the shapes before his mind fully registers the view. He’d recognize these thin, soft lips anywhere. He smiles to himself, placing a quick kiss to them before burrowing his face in the crook of Niles’ neck.

He feels arms around him tensing suddenly, and it takes him exactly three seconds to realize what he’s just done.

_ Fuck. _

“Gavin,” Niles’ voice is strangely soft as he speaks, his arms still holding Gavin’s body close. “Did you just kiss me?”

He doesn’t have a decency to even look him in the eye, he’s that fucking piece of a coward. “...Yes.”

“May I ask why?”

“Muscle memory,” he mumbles against the pale skin, countless memories of him leaving bite marks on it resurfacing in his mind. Not helpful, brain. Not at fucking all. “For my defence, you’re the one doing the cuddling here.”

Niles doesn’t speak for a moment and it feels like eternity. Gavin’s whole body has been aching for this kind of contact since the very first night after their fall out and now, when his deepest wishes have been miraculously granted, he can’t feel content. He’s ashamed, guilty and conflicted.

“Valid point,” he finally  _ finally  _ says and without further comments, let him go. No belittling remarks, no snarky comments, nothing. Just like that Gavin is free to go, just, he’s not sure he truly wants to.

He does move away from Niles, though, not wanting to appear desperate for any form of physical contact that’s not fist fighting. There is no willpower in him to even look guy in the eyes, knowing perfectly well that the moment he sees those cold greys he’s doomed.

Climbing out of the bed isn’t the easiest part of the morning routine but right now, it appears exceptionally easy. With few more or less coordinated steps he puts a much needed distance between himself and Niles, grabbing an old tshirt from his bag.

The whole house seems still asleep as he goes down the old stairs, wood squeaking in a familiar way underneath his bare feet. Gavin can’t say he misses the place but there is some comfort in those four walls and little dusty corners. He’s spent a huge part of his life here, after all, and those weren’t exactly bad times. He kind of longs for the simplicity of those days.

His hands move on autopilot, turning the coffeemaker on before his mind can actually think of what it wants the body to do. Just as he makes himself some toasts, he hears someone descending the stairs. Soon enough, Niles joins him in the kitchen.

They don’t speak, Gavin doesn’t even look up at the other man. He’s not sure he will stomach the view, after what has just happened in the bedroom. The sooner they forget about this horrendous accident (because that’s what it was, an ugly mistake), the better. At least that’s what Gavin thinks but decides not to voice, putting a mug with fresh coffee in front of Niles before he can’t stop himself.

Old habits die hard.

“Gavin,” Niles’ voice is so soft, with a surprise somewhere in it. Yeah, well, he is confounded as well.

Gavin, against his better judgment, looks up from his own coffee, up to that grey eyes. Waiting for that unnervingly chastening look. But he doesn’t find it. Instead, there is something unreadable in those eyes, playing just behind Niles’ pupils.

He doesn’t notice the movement, nor he registers what’s happening until it’s already too late. Niles puts one of his hands on his waste and the other one on his cheek, bringing their lips together. The kiss is gentle, but Gavin’s body reacts in an instant, clutching closer to the other man’s frame, craving proximity it cannot have.

“Get a room,” two little voices say in a creepy unison and only then Gavin notices the twins. Both wearing matching and equally grotesque pajamas.

“Looks like your cousins don’t like public display of affection,” Niles muses, shifting himself away from Gavin. 

Ah, so that’s what it was. A part of their act. 

When you think of it, it’s only logical that somebody should witness them kissing or hugging or whatever, since they’re technically a couple. Couples do that shit all the time.  _ They  _ used to do that shit all the time, when they were still a thing.

But now they are not and they have to pretend, and Gavin doesn’t know why it’s so heartbreaking for him to realize something so fucking obvious. He smiles bitterly to his mug, dark liquid in it still too hot to drink. He doesn’t care. Getting his insides burnt a little seems more pleasant than this lump in his throat.

Earlier, he’s felt something in his stomach and chest, spreading further and further into his body. Blooming, if one wants to be poetic about it. Right now, it feels more like a poison ivy kind of thing — still growing but squeezing his lungs, cutting out air and blood, going higher and higher in search of the light. Threatening to blow him apart.

 

*   *   *

In his whole goddamn life Gavin didn’t feel worse when attending a wedding. He’s not really that type of person you would gladly invite to such event but he had the questionable pleasure to have been to few. This one is special, however. It’s a wedding of someone close to him, his little-but-maybe-not-so sister. Cat’s never been happier and Gavin can’t bring himself to even complain about… things. Not in front of her anyway, when she’s so damn excited and nervous at the same time.

But he can complain silently, to the amber liquid in a short glass. To the sparkly one in a tall glass. To a hell lot of glasses, actually. They don’t judge him and he idly thinks he understands the appeal Anderson had seen in those. At least in the short term.

And so he mutters to the current glass in his hand, about everything and nothing in particular. How today has wrecked him emotionally. How pathetic he’s been feeling for the whole weekend. How he can’t pretend anymore that his feelings are in the past and past only.

Call him a fucking sap or whatever, Gavin can’t bother anymore. He still loves that tall, beautiful prick. All those kisses, hugs and closeness from today alone made him realize just how touch starved he was. 

There’s been a literal void in his guts since their broke up and nothing seemed to be good enough to fill it. Some stuff, like working extra hours or booze, were helpful because they could make him forget. But nothing  _ nothing  _ was able to fill that cold emptiness inside his chest.

And then today, for the very first time since what’ve felt like forever, Gavin had an impression he’s whole again. That he’s not missing pieces of himself.

It’s lasted for about five seconds overall but it’s been more than enough for him to be fed up with everything and everyone.

His personal goal for today is to get ragingly drunk under the pretense of celebrating Cat’s marriage. He doesn’t want to remember a thing from this fucked up weekend. Ceremony itself has been short, so it gives him a whole evening and night to achieve it.

The place his sister chose is nice. Spacious ballroom has just enough decoration, tables are full with delicious food and there is, obviously, an unlimited source of alcohol just in the very corner of the room. Gavin also spots the door made of glass, leading outside. To the garden, probably.

He takes a random bottle of wine from the bar and heads outside, everyone way too preoccupied with dancing and chatting to notice him. If he cannot be seen by their prying eyes, he won’t be judged. For drinking so much so quickly, for avoiding his partner for the whole wedding. For everything he’s done today, really.

Gavin finds a bench made of stone, hidden in between blooming bushes. A perfect place to black out, he decides.

“To the newlyweds,” he cheers to the sky and takes a gulp, instantly grimacing from the tangy alcohol. Dry red. Niles’ favorite. He takes another swig to forget he even remembers this one.

The one third of the bottle is gone when someone approaches him. He only wishes he doesn’t know these steps so well by now, so he could pretend to be surprised to see his ex coming.

“What,” Niles starts, his pace quickening, “in the name of the fuck are you doing?”

“Getting drunk,” isn’t it obvious from the very view of him, sitting alone in somewhat secluded area, a wine bottle in his hand?

Niles groans. “Gavin, for Christ’s sake!”

“The God is dead.”

“Don’t quote Nietzsche on me,” Niles  _ whips  _ the bottle from his hand, his gaze piercing through him. Maybe he would be scared or at least uncomfortable because of it, if he didn’t feel so fucking miserable in the first place. “Gavin, you don’t even like wine, let alone a dry one. What’s wrong?”

He feels an urge to ask if Niles prefers chronological or alphabetical order but he decides to let this one go. He’s in no mood to be witty and that’s very telling in his case.

“Nothing,” that’s what he says, looking up at Niles. Is that anger or worry he sees in those pretty grey eyes? He cannot tell. “Or maybe you know what, screw it, everything. Everything is goddamn  _ wrong. _ ”

“What do you-”

“I’m sick and tired of  _ pretending,  _ Niles!” Gavin has little faith in his abilities not to fall on his ass right now but he stands up anyway. If he’s about to yell, he’s gonna do it properly. “This whole weekend’s been a fucking disaster!”

“It’s been  _ your  _ idea to come in here as a couple,” his voice gets lower, and a tiny bit louder, and what Gavin would give to just disappear. To avoid dealing with all of this.

“I know, Mr. Always Right and Perfect, I know!” His hand clenched into a tight fist, itching to hit something. Or someone. “But, as it turns out, it was a shitty idea.”

“You admit to being wrong, wow.” Niles snorts and it’s not a pleasant sound. It stings. “You  _ really  _ must be fed up with this charade, Gav.”

Yes, that’s what it is— a freaking show and nothing else, there never was anything to it. If only he could convince himself about it, instead of letting that preposterous thing, hope, nestle in his guts.

Gavin sneers at him, the alcohol he’s digested earlier just enough to let most of his personal brakes free. In the end, he has nothing to lose. He may as well tell Niles what’s been boiling inside of him for the past three months, then maybe punch him or just go away and drink more. Both sound equally miserable and tempting.

“I am, Niles. And you know why? Because no matter how fucking much I’d like to, I can’t fake it anymore,” he makes sure to look him straight in the eyes, no miscommunication allowed now. “I still love your fucking asshole-self! And I know you had enough of me for the rest of your life! So yeah, playing the happy couple was  _ a fucking torture _ and now, if you excuse me, there is a shitton of free alcohol waiting for my attention.”

He’s about to turn around and storm out of the garden, right into that merry den of people in fancy clothes. Only that a pair of fine, slender hands keep him in place. He didn’t even notice when they put the bottle away.

“What made you think that?” Gavin doesn’t anticipate Niles to be so calm, his voice so tender. Let alone saying  _ this,  _ all of possible things.

“Huh?” Is simulation glitching? Is world mocking him? Did he drink too much?

“I said,” Niles’ grip tightens, his face coming closer. “What made you think I don’t love you?”

Yes, that for fucking sure is an error in the matrix. There’s just no fucking way in hell Niles said what he’s just said. Nope, not happening.

“Hm, I’d guess the fact that you, I don’t know, broke up with me?” Niles’ face is too close. If he doesn’t move away Gavin may ‘accidently’ lean in, brush their lips together. Call it on his tipsy state.

The guy snorts again but this time it’s less vicious, less angry. More subdued. “I didn’t say that I’m breaking up with you, Gavin. As far as I remember, we’ve been shouting at each other and eventually I’ve left, sure. But I’ve never said I don’t want to come back.”

Oh, he knows that one thing now boiling in his throat. Anger.

“Are you  _ fucking kidding me  _ right now?” He wants to laugh. Cry and scream all at once. He does neither, Niles’ steady grip grounding him. “Because if it’s some kind of sick joke to you, you pretentious asshole—”

His view is suddenly obscured by Niles’ jacket, his arms wrapped around Gavin’s broad frame. The hug is unexpected but he can’t say he does not enjoy it; he really  _ really  _ does.

“I’m bad at expressing how I feel, I know, Gavin, and I’m sorry,” Niles says into Gavin’s hair, his voice so quiet he would miss it if he wasn’t listening. “I didn’t want it to end up like this. I didn’t want  _ any  _ of this.”

That’s it, that’s all it takes for Gavin to bury his head into Niles’ chest, inhaling that clean scent of Mr. Perfect. His Mr. Perfect. 

Shit, he’s getting soft all over.

“And what was with that all passive-aggressive behavior, huh? Why didn’t you say anything, dipshit? I hate you,” he mumbles into that pristine shirt, his hands clutching to Niles’ back as if he was a life line. “I hate you so fucking much it’s unbelievable. I want to kick your flat ass, goddamnit.”

A soft sound echoes in his chest. An affectionate laugh. Gavin missed it so fucking much it actually pains him to think about it.

Niles kisses the top of his head. “You already know the answer, Gav. You’ve yelled it in my face.”

“Which is?”

“If I recall correctly, you shouted I’m a ‘perfectionist who isn’t capable of acting spontaneously and who’s so deep inside his own ass he cannot be bothered’.”

Gavin hums. “Well said, past me.” He doesn't need to see Niles’ face to know he’s rolling his eyes right now. “Though I’m sorry for the yelling, I guess _I_ _am_ kinda peevish. Or something.”

Niles chuckles,  _ chuckles.  _ Oh Lord, he’s so sold. “Now I want to prove you wrong,” and with that he gently pushes Gavin away, extending his hand. “Will you dance with me?”

The smile on his face is probably a weird mixture of goofy, fond and amused, but he can’t bring himself to care. He lets himself indulge in the moment he longed for for so long, taking Niles’ hand and following him back inside.

“It’s not that spontaneous, though,” Gavin says as they enter the ballroom, bright lights hurting his yet unadjusted eyes. “We both can more or less dance.”

“True,” Niles shifts, one arm casually hang over Gav’s shoulders, keeping him close. “But the last time I’ve checked, they intended on dancing macarena and you know I despise it.”

“Are you telling me you’re willing to dance this abomination of a dance just because  _ I  _ like it?” Gavin grins. He simply, straightforwardly and genuinely  _ grins.  _ He hasn’t done that in  _ months. _

“I am ready to sacrifice my dignity to prove a point, yes.”

Is it really happening? Does world decide to be kind to him? Or at least stop treating him like shit? Would be a nice change. Either way, Gavin has no intentions of digging more into it. He’s too wasted to worry about it and too damn happy to question it, at least in the present moment. Maybe later on, when he sobers up a tiny bit or when something punches him in the face. Literally or figuratively. 

For now, he’s about to enjoy his sister’s wedding through watching how Niles, an epitome of perfectionism and stoicism, dances a fucking macarena.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my friend Moran, for it's basically her AU. I've tried to include as many of her initial ideas as possible, without making it TOO corny. Friend, this fic is for you ( u v u) ♡  
> Also hey, it was funny to write! Not to mention I'm weak for fake/pretended relationship trope. Oh well. Sue me.  
>   
>   
> You can also find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/yourdeadprince) and [tumblr](http://ee-void.tumblr.com/).


End file.
